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RPlog:A Reunion
Scene: The Imperial Embassy Lobby Venus Venus notes your glance with a raised eyebrow or signature enigmatic smile, before returning to her activity. Regal features: high sharp bones, slender brows, black almond shaped eyes and red painted bow shaped lips atop golden skin create the elegance of the woman in ice princess form. Her blue black hair falls in triumphant waves down her back, catching the light and reflecting it in the form of a dark halo. Venus wears a modern ed white dress with a square neckline that cuts across her collarbones adding a touch of vulnerability to the confident woman. The sharp cut of the dress accentuates in to her waist before tracing her curves to the ground. Tall and slender, and not overly curvy, Venus stands very still allowing the glimpse of two ornaments: her diplomatic pin and a green stoned pendant on her neck.. Joir(#7752POACF) This Human Male stands at just over two metres. His build is athletic, good muscle tone is evident from his fluent style of movement. Mature yet handsome facial features suggest he is in his late thirtes. His light brown hair is cut short in a stylish manner, and compliments a neatly clipped 'goatee' beard. A slight jagged scar lies under his left eye, accentuating the high aristocratic cheek bones. His eyes sparkle a light shade of grey, ruled by a quiet calculating stare. His lips are thin, held in a unconcious arrogant smile. His stance is tall, holding himself in a manner that commands authority. His actions and mannerism belie a life of military service and although the clothes he wears bear no emblems, they closely resemble the dress uniform of the Imperial Stormtroopers. A plain Jet Black high collared jacket, is complimented by matching dress trousers and are of a precise cut which accentuates the athletic frame of the wearer. Polished leather shoes and black leather gloves act with the midnight uniform to create an image of dark power. Venus enters the Imperial embassy with an elegant and commanding walk, everything including te grip on her briefcase, perfect. She speaks in hushed tones to the sergeant on duty at reception. "Madam Thistleborn please. Lady DarkStar to see her." After announcing herself, Venus turns herself around to admire the grand interior of the embassy, pride in her eyes and smile. Joir is standing at one end of the entrance lobby engaged in quiet conversation with a young aide wearing the uniform of a Bureau diplomatic staffer. He does not immeadiately notice Venus when she enters - the lobby being such a busy place that each new visitor does not recieve his full attention. However the sound of her voice... spurs a burried memory, narrowing his cold grey eyes he turns from his aide and begins to scan the room for the source of this disturbing recollection. A dream?... a nightmare? - She was here, the one he had guarded, vowed to die for, even betrayed his Emperor for... here, now. Standing silently Joir just looks across the room, attempting to keep the mixed emotions from breaking free and playing across his face. Moving carefully he begins to walk towards Venus, steps precise and rigid. Juliet is in all her glory, in the familiar Imperial environs. Her expressions are more regal, and more pronounced and her presence retains that of the power she held. Her eyes are distant, taking in the familiar symbols around her, and letting them move her to the place of her birth. Venus turns back to the sergeant at reception, and says in her chillingly calm voice, "When will Chantinelle see me?" meaning, "I want to meet with Chantinelle now." Joir arrives to stand behind the 'ice queen', staring foolishly for a moment at her before regaining control, the aides whom he had been speaking too watch him with strange looks, what is this all about? Clearing his throat he speaks quietly, in his usually calm, commanding tone "Mrs Darkstar, I am sure the Chief Diplomatic Officer will see you soon" - Formality? was this how the reunion would go, bogged down in uncomfortable stiff conversation? Venus watches Joir approach her with his strong, rigid movements. A smile breaks at her lips, soft and genuine. She fixes her black eyes on the gentleman, and responds in her ice tones, "Thank you for your attention, sir." with many meanings beyond the face one. "I have always appreciated your help." Venus inclines her head, still gazing at the gentleman before her. She offers her hand to him, and says in deadly calm tones, "It is so good to see you again." Joir notes the smile, and returns it, granted it is a small smile, but it is genuine - the first for a long while, this woman seems to make him react in strange ways. Meeting her dark eyes with and intense gaze from his own, he nods his head politely to acknowledge her statement. Reaching out a hand he takes it firmly, his tone is even, perhaps not as cold as Venus's and laced with a slightly flavour of ammusement or irony "And you my lady" - the address is instinctive, despite her new alliegance Venus will always be an Empress. The sergeant speaks lowly to Venus. "Lady Thistleborne will be unavailable for a few hours." He bows and takes his seat. Venus pivots on her heal to face the gentleman, obviously displeased with the news. She stares at the sergeant for one, long minute and then says (as he shakes in his chair), "Is that so? Well, then, she will have to come see me on my schedule." Venus knows when to use true manipulation, and this is not the time. She turns to face Joir. Her eyes immediately lock on his, as if some bond is connected in this gaze. She says softly to him, her voice still chillingly calm. "I fear my meetings has been cancelled." She smiles, mischieviously, recalling memories of the past. Joir again smiles, her mischievious tone of voice infectious - what are the implications of this? He replies with the same ammused, calm voice "Then I suspect you will have an appoinment free then". With that he returns his face to its normal impassive, and entirely innocent mask" Venus nods her head. The man has a point, she does have a free appointment. Venus curtseys, in the style and manner she saved for the most important moments of ceremony with the High Command. "My lord, it is as you say." She does not lose eye contact with you, her black pupils fixated on your face. She rises, and raises her head with the regality of her birth. Joir greets the curtsey with a half-bow, movements equally as regal as Venus's - behaviour learnt from a life-time of command, and service within the Imperial court. When he speaks his voice is soft, and devoid of some of its usual Imperial arrogance "Then perhaps you would be available to see someone else, a personal visit... shall we say" A slightly diabolical grin comes to Venus's lips, and she does not answer right away. She lets the awkward silence bring in the /tension/ that exists between the two people. "Again, it is as you say, my lord." Venus inclines to the other side, and lets her hands spread on either side of the counter before her. "What would you advise, my lord?" Joir 's role has until recently been soldier, protector... a mind game, yet one entirely different from diplomacy - the rules of which are blurred, and difficult to learn. He to feels the tension, the tension he felt years ago - but then he had been entrusted with her life, now the circumstances are different. He attempts to make his tone conversational, but it ends up sounding slightly unatural and strained "Perhaps you would know of an appropriate place?" "My office." is all she says. Venus lets her diabolical smile turn alluring, and daring. Her hands retrace their way from the counter back to her side, and she gathers herself into her usual, meticilous posture. Her eyes speak "follow-me" but there are no words, and her slow graceful steps attempt to lure someone into her trap. Joir can't help but grin, her posture, her body language all reminding him of her days in the Imperial court. Turning to the two black dressed bodyguard who have been hovering off to one side in a bad attempt to look invisible he gives them a quick nod, indicating that on this occassion their presence is not needed. Turning back to Venus he does not follow her immeadiately, just standing and watching her leave, admiring her graceful, smooth movements. Venus heads to the exit doors, passing the security guards and steps out the embassy to the embassy plaza. Venus has left. Prime Minister's Suite - People's Hall(#9700RtJ) This is the office of Venus Dekan DarkStar, Prime Minister of the Casparian Democratic Union. The unusual tidiness of this room suggests that her presence is scarce in this headquarters. In the tradition of minimalism, Venus has decided to decorate the office with only a few items. A thin black marble desk centers the room, with no drawers, no room for misplaced files or papers. Three black leather chairs lie about the room, mobile for conferences. Two monitors, used for teleconferencing lie in front of the desk, with a large pannel of red and blue buttons next to them. This room has no windows and is not will lit, a formula for secrecy. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Venus -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- est leads to Presidential Reception Room - People's Hall. Venus lingers at the door a moment longer, to let Joir pass and close the door behind her. A click, and privacy is ensured. The woman remains at the door, and stares intently at Joir. Before her stands a man who stood by her side for years, night and day, guarding her from both physical and mental danger. He was her friend, her advisor and the only person that seemed to truly regard her as human. She smiles, tenderly at him. . .tears coming to her eyes as memories and time flood back to her. She murmurs, "Joir. . . " Joir stands calmly in the doorway while scanning the interior of the Prime ministers suite with alert grey eyes. You can learn a lot about the resident of a room from its furnishings, and the minimalist style is reminiscint of Joir's own office light years away on Dreven. Turning to face Venus he notes the tears in her eyes and remembers the many times he had to comfort a young girl, suddenly transplanted into the huge bewildering world of power. Instinctively, her replies with the address which was so common "Empress..", smiling gently, a smile reserved only for her. "It is good to see you again, my sweet. . ." Venus would often use terms of affection for purposes of manipulation. The sound of a woman murmuring kind words in chilingly cold tones has brought many a man to insanity over time. But in this case, the words are genuine and as close to warm as Venus is capable. She takes a few steps away from the door, but still does not enter Joir's space. "It has been so long, has it not?" Joir's cold grey eyes take on a far-away stare like he is reliving the long years. Speaking calmly, with a hint of sadness or perhaps regret Joir replies "It has, after the Noghri had gone I did not believe it was safe to try and search, they assured me that you were alive - but the risk was too great." Venus takes a few more steps closer to you. The bond both pulls and repels her to you. There is an element of fear as you are connected -- even if not by choice -- to the memory of her late husband The Emperor. There is joy -- as you were a beacon to her in her final time of need. More water comes to her eyes, the young woman still overwhelmed. "Oh Joir. . ." she murmurs. The same strange bond exists within Joir also, but another facet. Juliett had provided an element of life few career soldiers experience, a light in the darkness perhaps - yet in preserving this light he had committed the ultimate in betrayals, lying to his Emperor - the memory of which still haunts him. Unsure how to handle the crying woman Joir does something which he would not have dreamed of while he guarded her, tentatively - but with uncharacteristic gentleness he reaches out to embrace her. There was only one other time when the two people came close to sharing affection -- the night Juliet left the Empire. And now, the two people are drawn together, free of the nightmares of Alaric DarkStar. She has no choice, it is beyond her control. Venus clings to the embrace, falling into her guard's arms and gripping his back tightly with her arms. She murmurs again, "Joir. . ." and lets her head lie on his shoulder. "My sweet friend, after all these years." This time the smile is full, and genuine - amoung the business of war, espionage, assasinations - death, happiness and companionship is hard to find, the immense gratitude breaks through his internal controls and for the first time for many years emotions run plain and true across his face. Holding her tighter he nods, but remains silent - perhaps worried that his voice might crack under the strain of years of repressed emotions. A Reunion?